The Waiting Game
by HELLO I'M
Summary: One-shot. Wee!Chesters. Soulmates, could be taken as Wee!cest or simple family bond. Dean was never one for waiting, but he'd waited for Sam until the day he was born. Mary: "She supposed it should have disturbed her a little, how intertwined with each other they were, but somehow it all just seemed so...right. Like they were made for each other, two halves of the same whole."


**A/N: So in this the boys are supposed to be soulmates, so this could be taken as wee!cest or just a regular family soulmate bond thingy. However you want to see it. Um, I've been working on my spelling so if you see something mis-spelled let me know please. And feel free to drop a review, that would be great. Thanks.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. Obviously.**

Dean Winchester was born January 24, 1979 to Mr. and Mrs. Winchester of Lawrence, Kansas. He was a good a kid, as far as kids go. He laughed and cried and ran around in a hyper stupor and played with all his toys. Most of the time he seemed lost in his own little world, like so many other children. He loved his mom and dad and playing in the dirt, just like any child. Nobody would ever think there was something distinctively off about him, not even his parents.

By the time he'd turned three, though, Mary started wondering if this was normal behavior for children; Dean being her first, she wasn't entirely sure what she should do.

It was just after his third birthday that Dean started acting...different. Throughout random times of the day, he'd stop whatever he was doing to stare at the clock or out the window, sometimes even the door. Like he was waiting for something. And he'd sit and stare for a few minutes, perfectly still, like he was afraid he'd miss something. When nothing happend his shoulders would sag, sometimes he'd sigh quietly, and go back to doing whatever it was he was doing, with a little less enthusiasm.

What really worried Mary the worst though, was that he only seemed to get more antsy as time went on. He'd pause more often and for longer stretches of time, he'd even taken to pacing once or twice. The pacing was usually on the bad days, where it seemed the waiting was eating Dean alive. He'd go back and forth, stopping every once in awhile to glance at the clock and then the door, occasionaly shaking his head so softly it was nearly un-noticeable. But Mary noticed every time. And new mother or not, Mary was almost certain this was not normal toddler behavior.

Whatever he was waiting for clearly wasn't happening soon enough. It almost put Mary on edge.

It wasn't until August that there was a truely drastic change to Dean's behavior.

Dean crawled out of his bed and made his way to his mother, doing dishes in the kitchen. It had been one of those rare times when the child had managed sleep longer than her.

She'd said good morning to him with her usual smile and he'd just stared at her. Eyes wide. Then he smiled, big and happy, and gave his mom a gentle but excited hug around her hips, head burried in her stomach.

After that he made it his mission to be as cuddley as possible, not that Mary would ever dare complain about that. It was a relief compared to the impatient waiting he'd been doing for way too long.

A month later she took a pregnancy test and found out she was going to mother another baby. It was the first time she thought her son had somehow known about her pregnancy before she did, but it definitley wasn't the last time she thought about it.

As her due date came closer, she noticed Dean switching attitudes once again. He was back to staring at the clock, only this time instead of switching between the clock and the door, he'd look between the clock and her. More specifically, her baby bump.

She didn't understand it, couldn't understand it. Couldn't help but think that this baby was what Dean had been waiting so long for. She was convinced Dean had known before even she had that this baby was coming. She should've known then that Sam could never be fully hers, no matter how long she carried him. And she really shouldn't have been too suprised when Dean stopped being so cuddley as soon as Sammy was born.

The first time she set baby Sammy into his brother's waiting arms, she was in complete awe at the absolute love and adoration he gave the bundle. There was doubt in her mind that Sam belonged to Dean.

At first she thought it was a one-way thing, that only Dean felt this strange connection to his brother, how silly she was. It happend one day when Sammy was in his crib crying up a storm, he was such a fussy little baby, she'd just changed and fed him so she figured he just wanted some attention and love. She thought she'd finish up with the bills and go give her baby what he wanted. She never saw Dean sneak past her and to where Sam was wailing in the living room. She was just cleaning up when she noticed the crying had stopped, sounding like it had been for a little while now. Curious, she tip-toed to the other room where she saw Dean, leaning over Sam, one finger being held tightly in a tiny fist, talking to him. Just talking, slow and gentle, his voice soothing over Sam as he used his other hand to dry away his fallen tears. And Sam...well for a baby he sure showed a lot of focus on Dean's face, his eyes not once leaving his brother.

She supposed it should have disturbed her a little, how intertwined with each other they were, but somehow it all just seemed so...right. Like they were made for each other, two halves of the same whole. They belonged together, and she found herself hoping they would never have to be apart and cursing anyone who got between them.

She knew, as long as her boys kept that faith and love and total devotion for each other, they would be just fine.


End file.
